Why I Fell For Ginny Weasley
by cherryredxx
Summary: Many reasons for why Draco loves Ginny. All interconnect drabbles, but each is its own story. Written for OTP Boot Camp on HPFC.
1. Acrid

**one**: _acrid_

adj.

1. Sharp or biting to the taste or smell; bitterly pungent; irritating to the eyes, nose, etc. 2. Extremely or sharply stinging or bitter.

* * *

When Draco Malfoy entered the flat that he shared with Ginny Weasley, he was greeted with a smell so horrible, so foul, so _repugnant_, that he almost turned around and walked right back out the door. He had never encountered such a foul odour that so nearly caused permanent damage to three of his five senses.

She entered the sitting room a moment later, smiling happily at her boyfriend. Her hair was tied back into a loose bun with curly ringlets framing her face, and she wore an olive green sundress with a pink apron tied around her waist. "Hello, love," she greeted, kissing him soundly on the lips. "You're home early."

A noncommittal grunt escaped his lips as he attempted to keep his expression neutral. He blinked away the tears in his eyes while turning his grimace into the most convincing smile he could muster. "What – what have you been doing here all day, Gin?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Oh!" she exclaimed in surprised delight. "I've been baking your favourite treats! I've already finished six or seven batches of chocolate fudge and some of those oatmeal cookies that you like so much, and I've just put a cherry pie in the oven…"

His eyes went wide. She had spent all day slaving over a hot oven, baking him all of his favourites, and he just didn't have the heart to tell her about the acrid odour he had smelt as he walked in the door. He knew he was in big trouble. He had been so preoccupied by his thoughts – worried about how he would possibly be able to show how much he appreciated her while never, _ever_, ingesting anything she had made that day – that he had not even heard her laugh hysterically.

"Oh, that look on your face!" she said, cackling and wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes as she doubled over in laughter.

The blond's eyes narrowed. "I don't get it, Gin."

She sobered quickly and nibbled at her lip. "Honestly, Draco, I am the daughter of Molly Weasley! Do you _really_ think that the flat would smell like this if I were baking? And, really, you'd think I'd have a spot of chocolate _somewhere _on my apron, wouldn't you?"

"Oh," he replied, feeling awfully silly.

Ginny sidled up beside him, wrapping her arms around her neck and resting her head in the crook of his neck. "But, you know, it was awfully sweet of you to pretend that you were excited that I had baked you lots and lots of sweets." She kissed the side of his neck.

Draco grunted and engulfed her in a loving embrace, hands on her hips. They stayed that way for a long minute, swaying gently and holding each other, before Draco pulled back abruptly. "Ginny, if you're not in there baking, then what is that smell?"

Her cheeks turned a very bright shade of pink as she looked to the ground. "Oh, erm, about that…"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Ginny, what did you do?"

"Well, I…"

"Ginny?"

"I…"

"Ginevra, why in the bloody hell does the apartment smell like bloody burning cat piss?"

"Oh, well, I… I was trying to…"

As she stammered, he considered possible explanations, but he considered something that he previously had not. Ginny was a very capable witch who, much to his dismay, was an awful lot like her twin brothers, and something occurred to him.

Draco held up a hand, halting the words he could see forming on the tip of her tongue. "You know what? Knowing you, Gin... I don't even want to know."


	2. Agitated

**two:**_ agitated_

adj.

excited; disturbed.

* * *

She shakes her foot when she gets angry. It didn't take him too long to notice that.

He could remember watching her from across the Great Hall at the Slytherin table. She would be visibly agitated by her brother, and so she'd shake her foot under the table, controlling her anger as best she could rather than let loose with the Weasley temper.

And so when he entered their flat to be greeted by a Ginny Weasley whose arms were crossed over her chest and her foot tapping wildly against the hardwood floors, he knew he was in trouble. He didn't know what he could have _possibly_ done when he had been at work all day, but he knew he had done _something_.

Draco braced himself. "All right, Gin?"

"Does everything _look_ all right, Malfoy?"

He winced at her use of his surname and took a glance around their home. Everything appeared normal enough – the room was tidy, he had made sure to cast cleaning charms before he left that morning, the Christmas tree was set up in the far corner of the room, the fireplace looked… oh, damn.

He was supposed to take down the bloody Christmas tree.

Ginny's foot began tapping more rapidly as she realised he'd figured out what was wrong. "I thought you were going to do that last week," she pressed as she took several steps in his direction. "I thought you were going to take it down on Sunday. Or before you went to work today. Hmmm, Draco?"

"All right!" he shouted. "I'll take down the damned Christmas tree!"

"I've already heard that story," she spat. "And yet, there is still a bloody tree in the corner of my sitting room!"

"Well, I haven't really had time!"

"Oh, but you have _plenty_ of time to go out drinking with Blaise, don't you? And you have had time to organise Theo's bloody stag night, but you can't possible take thirty minutes to make your girlfriend happy?"

A slow smirk crossed his lips as he walked towards Ginny. His eyes were gleaming with wicked intent. When he was mere inches from her frustrated form, Draco ran his hands over her neck, across her shoulders, and down her arms, moving with tantalising slowness and precision. He felt her flinch as his hands gently massaged the tense muscles of her neck and shoulders.

Ginny looked up, her resolve broken by her boyfriend's ministrations. "Is this your attempt at making me happy?" she asked, her voice much more relaxed than it had been.

"It is," he whispered, his lips grazing her outer ear. He bent down slightly to kiss the side of her neck and her throat, ending with a lingering kiss on her lips. Draco pulled back less than an inch. "Is it working?"

She looked at him for another minute, her eyes narrowed and her jaw set in a firm line as she studied his pompous expression. When she was satisfied, Ginny pressed her lips against his, kissing him fiercely and making her mark on him over and again.

After pulling back, she smirked. "I'm very happy," she said, walking towards the bedroom. "But you're still taking down the damn tree when we're finished."

He wasted no time in following her down the hall, planning to take his time so that maybe, just _maybe_ she'd forget about the tree for one more day.


	3. Calm

**three**: calm

adj.

free from excitement or passion; tranquil

* * *

"You know, I honestly thought that once I reached adulthood that I would not have to deal with this mindless gossip."

Ginny smiled adoringly at her husband as he continued to pace back and forth around their bedroom. It was almost endearing to see him so flustered and with such a worrisome face. She loved when he was broken down and demonstrating the fact that he – like most humans – had some semblance of self-doubt, rather than the calm and bitterly cool exterior that he chose to wear most often.

She got off their bed and wandered towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder to halt his impatient pacing that was sure to burn a hole in their carpet. "Darling, it's all right," she said.

Draco smirked at her and Ginny smiled in response, knowing exactly what it was that he found so amusing. Somehow, their roles had been switched. Normally it was Ginny who would get worked up about every little thing and he who would tell her she was being ridiculous. But when Draco needed it the most, Ginny was there to tell him that he needn't worry.

"I'm surprised that you're so calm about this, Gin," Draco said after a moment, refilling the moment with tension. "You know the press loves to eat up any chance at making our marriage look like a sham, but I can't help but wonder why rumors that I am having an affair with one of my exes doesn't seem to faze you in the slightest."

At that, Ginny narrowed her eyes and looked up at her husband through her thick eyelashes, a look of absolute smugness reigning through as her predominant expression. Gently, she guided him back towards their bed, giving him one hard shove to knock him onto his back. He propped himself on his elbows, watching her with unabashed curiosity.

Slowly and gracefully, Ginny removed her shoes and began unbuttoning her blouse, all the while looking at Draco with an absolute wantonness that she knew he'd recognize in an instant. Once her blouse was almost halfway undone, she sauntered to the bed, straddling his legs as she finished with her shirt.

"First of all," she began, pulling the garment over her arms before running her hands upwards over his arms and around to his chest, slowly reciprocating the action she had just finished on herself, "I know better than to believe anything I read in the society papers."

Ginny planted several kisses on his mouth, trailing down over his jawbone and down to his neck, grinning to herself as a shudder resonated through him when her lips brushed his sensitive spots.

"Second, I know that that _tart_, Astoria, has her eyes on another poor soul."

Her hands trailed into his sleeves, pushing them all the way off his arms, before proceeding to fling his perfectly pressed work shirt onto their bedroom floor. She guided him all the way onto his back as his hands went to her slender waist.

"And lastly," she began, as her hands finally went to the buttons of his trousers, "I know that _you_ know that if you were ever unfaithful to me, that I would absolutely castrate you." She batted her eyelashes sweetly. "You know that, don't you, dear?"

With an absolutely feral growl, Draco turned the tables on Ginny, flipping them over and pinning her against the bed as his mouth began hungrily attacking her lips. Her hands tangled in his hair, and she gasped as his hands began to wander over the bare flesh of her stomach and up to her breasts.

He pulled back, his grey eyes filled with lust.

"And I also know that there's no one in the world who you love like me," she added, her voice quieter and almost uncertain. "Is there, Draco?"

It was obvious that he could sense that shred of doubt hidden behind her calm façade that questioned whether or not there was any truth to those rumors. She didn't believe them – not really – and she knew that they had a wonderful marriage, filled with passion and understanding and mutual feelings of love, but there was always the chance that she could be wrong, wasn't there?

He cocked his head to the side before leaning in and planting an impossibly sweet kiss on her swollen pink lips.

"There could never be anyone else."

She nodded once, telling him wordlessly that she trusted him and that she really did believe that there was no truth to the rumors.

He planted one more kiss on her lips before they slid up to the head of their bed, pulling back the covers and tucking themselves in. His arms were wrapped around her as she let her head rest against his chest, listening to the sound of his muffled heartbeat.

In truth, Ginny had not been completely honest in saying that she knew Draco hadn't been unfaithful. She knew that he loved her and that he was completely devoted to her, but no matter what, there was still a lingering shred of uncertainty that she couldn't shake. But that was one of the reasons why Draco loved Ginny. She trusted him, even when she had reason not to.

They fell asleep soundly, both knowing that tomorrow they would put everything behind them.

* * *

**A/N:** This entry was also written for Lia's Gossip challenge on the DG Forum. Also, big thanks to Sam (MissingMommy) for the lightning-fast beta! Hope you enjoyed this!


	4. Fear

**four: **fear

n.

something that causes feelings of dread or apprehension;something a person is afraid of

* * *

With the bed still unmade, Draco lay across it, staring at the ceiling thoughtfully. He breathed in and out deeply, trying to think about what was going to happen the next day and also trying to take his mind off it at the same time because he knew that thinking about it was only going to increase his level of stress. Tomorrow was it – the day that was going to decide his future. He would find out if his role in the war was truly forgotten. What others thought of him was going to determine whether or not he could keep his job and his money and his assets…

…and whether or not he'd ask her to marry him. Or, rather, whether or not he could afford to. Whether she would be shamed by having his name added onto hers. He couldn't ask her to do that if the world still believed him to be less than human.

A gentle knock on the doorjamb instantly brought him back to reality. She was standing there, dressed for bed in her silky white nightgown, her red hair pulled off her face and into a messy bun. Her face was completely unmade up and she looked rather unkempt, but to him she was just perfect.

In her hands she held two mugs.

"Do you ever stop thinking?" she teased. She remained in the doorway, just staring at him and smiling to herself.

The corner of Draco's lip turned upwards slightly. "Not very often," he answered truthfully. "You coming to bed?"

She glanced at their bed and laughed. "I guess I forgot to make the bed this morning."

He shrugged. "I don't mind."

"Me neither," she answered with a smile as she finally did enter the room. "I prefer it unmade, in fact. Takes less time to get comfortable, I think." She held out one of the mugs for him to take. "It's cocoa."

Draco accepted it gratefully and took a sip. He loved, more than anything, that she not only knew that he needed the comfort, but she also knew exactly how he liked it. Only Ginny knew how bad his sweet tooth really was.

Ginny took a sip from her own mug as she looked skeptically at her boyfriend. "You know, it makes me uncomfortable to sleep beside a man who won't even tell me what's on his mind."

"You sleep beside many men who don't talk to you?" he asked dryly.

She smirked at that. "A few of them."

Draco stared into his mug. He smiled at the way she had piled on the whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles and added bits of crushed up candy canes on top along with several maraschino cherries. It wasn't the prettiest presentation he had ever seen, but she made sure she'd added in all of his favorites. And he'd take thoughtful over perfection any day.

"So, are you going to tell me what's bothering you, or am I going to have to take back that hot chocolate?"

Draco laughed out loud. "Those are my options?"

"Well, what else was there the threaten you with?" she asked, grinning.

"You could tell me that you'd leave me if I didn't talk."

Ginny bit her bottom lip. "Draco, I'm not going to lie. You frustrate the hell out of me when you keep to yourself like this, but I don't ever want to leave you. The thought of that… it just makes me ill."

His hand without cocoa reached out and laced its fingers with hers.

After a few minutes of silence, Ginny fixed her eyes on her boyfriend. "Does this mean that all of my hard work is going into the bin, Draco?" she asked with a mock pout. "I slaved over a stove for, you know, a few whole minutes!"

"A few minutes, eh?"

"Yes," she confirmed with mock direness. "And I wasted probably a sickle's worth of chocolate… maybe even two sickles total for all of those ingredients."

Draco sighed, the corners of his lips still turned up into a smile. He didn't want to talk about what was bothering him – he already knew what she'd say. She'd tell him not to worry, that he was wonderful, and that she'd always be by his side, regardless of what other people said about him. She would say that everything would be fine, just as long as they had each other. And then he would continue to sit beside her, drinking his perfect mug of cocoa that she had fixed for him and he would maybe even start to feel better.

He considered this scenario in a bit of a stunned silence. Well, that all didn't sound so bad, did it?

His attention turned back to Ginny, who was waiting patiently for him to decide what was going to happen next. Either he could be comforted with hugs and cocoa and love from her, or she could take his cocoa away – which she probably wouldn't do anyway – and spend the night with hurt feelings, hoping that maybe tomorrow he'd confide in her. He knew that she believed he'd choose the latter because he had such a difficult time opening up to anyone.

But he surprised her.

"Well, I found out that tomorrow, I'm due in at the Ministry to see if I'll be allowed my inheritance after all…"

Because in the end, he'd take her perfectly imperfect self – complete with unmade beds and mugs of cocoa that were much tastier than they were pretty – over stress any day.

* * *

Thanks to Sam (MissingMommy) for her thoughts!


	5. Carcass

**five:** carcass

n.

A dead body; corpse.

* * *

She sat on the bed. Her cheeks were tear-stained and pink, and her shoulders continued to shake with her silent shudders. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't stop herself from crying. Everything reminded her of what had happened and her thoughts kept leading her back to that fateful afternoon when everything in her life seemed to fall apart. Not only was it heart-breaking, but it was simply exhausting for her mind to be constantly lead astray. Desperately, she tried to find happy thoughts somewhere, but they were simply hidden away too deep. There was nothing positive for her to think.

He sat beside her silently. There wasn't a thing that he could say or do to make what happened go away, and he knew well enough that she was too stubborn to admit that she needed a shoulder to cry on. She was normally so courageous and hardly ever allowed herself to show weakness. He wasn't sure what he could do for her. So he just sat there, hoping that she would eventually ask for something – anything – so that he could help her.

And she turned to him, her splotchy face still as beautiful as ever, the emotions painted so clearly into her big brown eyes. "It was my fault, wasn't it?" she asked.

There was a pang in his chest that resonated within him so fiercely that he almost felt his heart break. He could see clearly that she was asking that question with all of the sincerity in the world, and that made him want to fall apart.

"No, Ginny," he said without even a second of hesitation. "You didn't do anything wrong."

But she still didn't feel any less guilty or any less heartbroken or any less empty on the inside. "Then whose fault is it, Draco?" she asked, her voice cracking a little. "Why did this have to happen to him?"

Draco closed his eyes briefly. This was the most disconnected from his wife that he had ever felt. She wasn't comprehending anything, wasn't understanding, wasn't allowing herself to heal, and it scared him. He didn't know what to do.

He could only try to make her feel something positive. He touched his hand to her face and leaned in, pressing his lips to hers fiercely. Every ounce of his emotion he poured into her, and she kissed back with so much desperation that it was painful. He gently pried open her lips with his tongue, wanting to feel her and needing for her to feel him, and she responded in kind, clutching onto his shirt for dear life as her body warmed to his touch.

And when it was over she touched her fingers to her lips. For a long moment, she remained quiet, looking down at her feet. The kiss had given her a second of solace, but it didn't keep her mind from wandering right back to where it started. "If I would have got there a minute sooner…" she began, her voice quavering just a bit. Her eyes locked with his. "If it were only a minute, Draco… maybe… maybe I could have done something, right?"

With a heavy heart, Draco shook his head. "No, Gin."

"But the Healer said… he said when he examined the body! He said that maybe –"

"Ginny!" Draco said, exasperated.

Her tears began to fall again, silently cascading down her cheeks. "But I just feel so responsible."

"I know you do, but the way you're thinking is going to make you sick." He touched his finger to her chin, gently pressing up and forcing her to meet his eyes. "When you found your father, it was already too late. You did nothing wrong."

Ginny shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I just don't believe that."

Draco's head fell in defeat. He didn't know what else to do, what else to say. He didn't know how to comfort someone – even someone he loved so deeply. It was a sad realization, one that broke his heart to face. But in a moment of clarity, he realized what he had to do for her right then and there. He had to say something that would comfort her, even if it wasn't something that wasn't completely true.

He sighed and closed his eyes briefly. "Ginny, I talked to the Healer when you were with your family," he said. "Your father's whole body shut down immediately. It wouldn't have mattered if you were there a second before he died or an hour and a half. You couldn't have stopped him from dying. He was sick, and that was not because of you."

And when her eyes met his again, he could still see that she didn't believe him. She still believed with all her heart that she could have saved him, but within her sad eyes, there was the tiniest glimmer of relief and a spark of hope that what Draco had said was true. She was still haunted by the moment that she found him lying dead on the kitchen floor of her childhood home and saddened by the thought of living without the most important man in her life…

But she would survive it.

* * *

**A/N:** This story was written for the Six Senses Competition, category: emotion. Prompts were helpless, tired, and pain.


	6. Drawn

**six:** _drawn_

v.

* * *

Draco was tired of coming home and finding his flat in a state of disaster. Time and again, he'd spend twelve hours each day on his feet at the Ministry, and return to the apartment, physically exhausted, with laundry still not done, the kitchen a mess, and the bed still not made.

But if he wanted to remain in a healthy relationship with Ginny, he knew well enough to not get too terribly frustrated with her for not always pulling on her end of the string. She was a busy woman who was completely dedicated to her Quidditch career. He couldn't reasonably expect for her to complete too many chores in addition to her training, practices, and matches, especially whilst Quidditch was in season.

However, one Tuesday in particular, Draco came home from the Ministry at precisely six o'clock, already stewing about the terrible day he'd had at work. He had been chewed out by his boss, slammed with twice as much paperwork as usual, bombarded with owls from various people around the office with silly questions that he could not be bothered with responding to, and had got stuck waiting for the lift for nearly twenty minutes as some dolt had hit the stopper button without anyone inside the lift even realizing it.

And to top it off, it was _Tuesday._ That fact was unfortunate for two reasons. It meant that there were still three more days left in the work week, and it was also the day that Ginny had Quidditch practice _and_ individual training. She would not be home until even later than him, and any small chance that some household chores would be completed was nonexistent. Tuesday was the worst possible day to have a bad day.

At the very least, though, Draco knew what he'd be getting into. Or at least he'd thought so.

The sweet aroma of vanilla scented candles drifted through the front door as soon as it was opened. The carpets had been vacuumed and the hardwood floors had been mopped. The picture frames had been dusted, the dishes had been done, and there were two hampers, filled to the brim with freshly laundered clothing and other linens, already folded and ready to be put away.

And one petite redhead stood in the hallway outside the bathroom, wearing only a white lace teddy. The tiny smirk on her face made it perfectly clear that she had been waiting for him.

Draco couldn't believe his eyes. The place was spotless, it smelled heavenly, and she looked delicious. It was like he had fallen asleep and couldn't be bothered to wake up from such a perfect dream.

"How – how did you manage to pull this off?" he asked, stunned.

She lounged against the wall casually. "I knew you were terribly frustrated that neither of us ever have the time to take care of the flat, so I owled Mum and asked her if she could help me out."

He began to loosen his tie as he approached her. "How very thoughtful of you."

"I thought so," she said proudly. "But that's not even the best part."

"Oh?"

"I hurt my back while I was training, so much that I could barely fly." She lifted her arms over her head, causing her nightgown to rise up her leg ever-so-slightly, and stretched backward, clearly demonstrating that her back felt just fine. "But it's just miraculous how quickly I was able to heal and regain my strength."

Draco smirked knowingly. "You're a minx, you are," he said, placing his hands over her hips and running them down over her bottom.

"In the best way possible, of course."

"Of course."

He leaned in to kiss her, but she stopped him with a finger to his lips.

She tutted playfully at his expense. "Oh, no. I've got plans for you, Mr. Malfoy." Ginny smiled playfully. "I think we'll start with the bath I've drawn for us."

Lightly, she tugged on his hand, pulling him into the bathroom behind her. No time was wasted before her nightie was pulled over her head and his work robes were tossed thoughtlessly into a pile on the floor. And even less time went by before he had picked her up and set her down in the tub, him following right behind her.

And by the time he had settled in and had begun to relax, Draco Malfoy had realized yet another reason why he had fallen for Ginny Weasley.


End file.
